


Happiness

by DKNC



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:45:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DKNC/pseuds/DKNC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of fluff (with some smut) about Lord and Lady Stark prior to the time of A Game of Thrones.</p><p>Written in response to the Hump Day prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happiness

Ned Stark was not a happy man. He had ridden through the gates of Winterfell nearly three hours ago and had laid eyes on his wife precisely twice since then. He had feared her ill when she was not in the courtyard with Maester Luwin and the boys to meet him, but the maester had quickly informed him it was his daughters who had been ill although they were both seemingly recovering now, their fevers having finally broken only last night.

He had hurried into the Keep with Robb and Jon both bouncing up and down around him as he went, grabbing at the legs of his breeches and telling him a great number of things which seemed urgent tidings to six year old boys. “There was a snake in the Great Hall--a big one!” “Hullen says I’m big enough for my own pony.” “My wood sword broke and I asked Mikken for a metal one but he said I had to ask you.” “I can jump over the broken wall by the lichyard now. Wanna see?” “Were the men in the mountains as wild as everyone says?” “Will there be better food at meals now you’re home, Father? The cooks have made the same stuff over and over since Mother’s been in the girls’ room all the time.” “Two of the hunting dogs had puppies.”

Ned had patted the boys somewhat absently as he walked and tried to make appropriate responses, but as glad as he was to see them, _How had they grown so much in less than one moon’s turn?_ , his mind could not be easy until he’d seen for himself that his daughters were indeed all right. He had reached the Keep and started down the corridor toward their room when Catelyn had appeared, nearly running toward him.

“Ned!” she’d exclaimed, a look of joy on her face that warmed his heart. For a brief moment, he honestly thought she might fling herself into his arms, but then she’d stopped suddenly just in front of him. Looking down, she said, “Forgive me, my lord. I . . .I did not hear the horn, and no one came to tell me of your arrival. I only just heard that you . . .”

“Cat,” he’d interrupted her softly, putting a hand beneath her chin to turn her blue eyes to his. Just touching her made his heart skip in spite of his worry for his daughters. “You were with our girls, my love. How do they fare?”

“Better,” she’d smiled. “Arya will nurse again, although fretfully, to be sure, and Sansa just asked me for a lemon cake!”

He could see the exhaustion in her face, and while the boys had looked bigger and stronger to him, she had looked decidedly thinner. “How long were they ill?” he’d asked her.

“More than a week,” she’d said, and he heard in her voice all the worry and fear she’d suffered during that week.

“You never left them, did you?”

She’d only shaken her head, and he’d pulled her close to him, encircling her with his arms. Before he could say anything else, a high pitched voice had cried out, “Mama!” and Catelyn had jumped away from him.

“Oh gods, she’ll wake Arya and I’ve only just got her to stop crying.”

Before his wife could turn to go, Ned had spied his not quite three year old daughter toddling as quickly as she could down the corridor, arms reaching up for Catelyn. “Mama, you leaved! Don’t leave!”

When Ned had reached for her, she’d clung to Catelyn’s skirts and looked at him with suspicion. His wife had quickly tried to reassure him. “It’s only that she’s been ill, and you have been gone a very long time to her mind, my love.” She had bent to pick up the child who then clung tightly to her neck. “Say hello your to father, Sansa,” she’d encouraged, but Sansa had only buried her little face in her mother’s shoulder. With a sigh, Catelyn had said, “I should take her back to her room. Forgive me, my lord.”

Feeling somewhat helpless, Ned had simply nodded, and she’d encouraged him to go to the Hall and get something to eat as it was past time for the evening meal. As she’d walked away from him, and the boys tugged on his hands, he heard a howl that sounded for all the world like a wolf, but he knew it had come from his youngest child. Arya could wail at alarming volumes when she was distressed. Still just shy of her first birthday, his younger daughter did not allow herself to be ignored.

He’d almost followed after Catelyn then, but she’d said firmly, “Go and eat, Ned,” and he had gone, still feeling uncomfortably helpless and unnecessary.

Two hours later, he had eaten, spoken to everyone he needed to speak to within the castle, and seen Robb and Jon to their beds. She still had not emerged from the girls’ room, and he found himself missing her even more than he had on his long journey to the mountain clans. It seemed as if the brief sight of her and feel of her in his arms had only intensified his longing for her. He’d found himself standing at the door of the girls’ room and opening it quietly without realizing he had even intended to go there.

Sansa had been sound asleep in her bed, copper hair so like her mother’s shining brightly against her pillow. Catelyn sat in a rocking chair, holding Arya cradled in her arms, humming softly as she rocked the babe gently. She’d smiled up at Ned when she saw him, and he was struck by how beautiful his wife truly was in spite of her obvious exhaustion. Arya’s eyes were closed, but Ned had learned that sometimes meant little with this particular pup.

“Is she well?” he’d whispered.

Catelyn had nodded. “They both are. So much better than last night even.”

He’d offered a silent prayer of gratitude for his daughters’ recovery, and then, feeling slightly guilty, asked her another question. “Will you be coming to your chambers, my lady?”

She’d smiled again. “I’ll be there as soon as I can put her down, my love,” she’d replied.

That had been an hour ago. Now, Ned sat on the big bed in his wife’s room, stripped of his shirt and breeches to keep from being too miserably hot in her always warm chambers, still waiting for her to arrive. His journey to the mountain clans had been productive, his lands were secure, his castle had suffered no misfortunes in his absence, his sons were well, and his daughters soon would be. He had much to be grateful for, and yet he knew he would not be truly happy until his wife walked through that door and into his arms.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 _Please, oh please, sweetling. Stay down this time,_ Catelyn thought as she gently laid Arya in her cradle once again. She’d tried it at least a half a dozen times already, only to be rewarded with an earsplitting howl each time. Immediately she had scooped the child back up before she could wake Sansa.

This time, miraculously, the grey eyes stayed closed. Catelyn gently brushed a wisp of dark hair from her daughter’s little face--the face that looked so like Ned’s.

At the thought of her husband, Catelyn felt a shiver run through her body that had nothing to do with cold. She had missed him terribly, and when both her girls had gotten so ill and she’d barely eaten or slept, she had longed to have him just hold her. Now, in spite of being more tired than she ever remembered, the brief memory of his arms around her in the corridor made her breath come more quickly.

As she turned to leave the room, she caught sight of herself in the little looking glass and almost cried at her reflection. She wasn’t normally a vain woman, but the sight of her drawn face with worry lines at the corners of her eyes and hair that was badly in need of a wash and comb dismayed her. She was not yet five and twenty, but after this past week she felt older than Nan and feared she looked it, too.

She had imagined a far different homecoming for her husband this time. It had been his first long absence since the Greyjoy Rebellion, and their first separation during which Catelyn knew he missed her with the same longing that she missed him. She had known well enough that she loved him when she sent him off to fight the Ironborn with Robert Baratheon, but it was only after his return, after Arya’s birth, that she had realized to her great surprise and joy that he loved her as well. Neither of them had wanted him to go on this trip, but of course he had to, and even now the memory of their lovemaking the night before he left caused her to flush warmly. They had come together desperately, unable to get enough of each other, frantic to express with their touches all the things that never came easily to them with words.

She’d wanted to welcome him back in much the same way. Yet, she couldn’t imagine the woman in this looking glass inspiring much in the way of passion and, truth be told, she didn’t know if she had the strength. Every muscle in her body ached with exhaustion. Sighing, she left her sleeping daughters for the first night in over a week and walked to her chambers.

He sat on her bed, naked save for his small clothes, no furs covering him. He smiled at her as she entered the room, a genuine smile without any hint of disappointment in her, and she returned it gratefully. “Is this the manner in which you received visitors while on your journey, my lord?” she teased.

“No,” he said, raising a brow at her. “None of the mountain halls are as warm as your chambers, my lady, or I might have.”

She laughed and sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. “I am sorry, Ned. She wouldn’t go down.”

She felt his hands behind her then, kneading the knots in her shoulders. “I am familiar with the babe, my love. I’d say you got her down rather quickly.”

“She is a trial at times,” Catelyn said softly, leaning into his touch, “But when she does smile, it is the sweetest thing. And before she got sick, she was trying to walk. I swear it Ned! Had she not fallen ill, I honestly believe she’d have met you on her feet.”

“Her brother and sister did not walk so early,” he said.

“No. But just you wait. Give her a few days to feel completely her little self again, and you’ll see.”

He chuckled. His hands moved lower on her back then, and she realized he was undoing the laces at the back of her gown. She made no objection, and when it was loosened, he pushed it down over her shoulders. She shivered at his touch on her bare arms.

“Surely, you are not cold, my lady?”

“No,” she said. “I am not cold.”

“Good,” he murmured, planting a kiss on the back of her neck before resuming his massage of her shoulders and back. His fingers made her skin tingle beneath her thin shift.

“You are so beautiful, Cat,” he said, and she snorted.

“I look old and worn,” she protested.

He turned her face and leaned around her shoulder to look at her then. “No,” he said very seriously. “You look tired. You look ill-fed. And yet you remain beautiful.”

Her eyes filled with tears at that, and she leaned back against his bare chest, closing her eyes. “I have missed you so much, my love,” she said, her voice trembling.

“And I have missed you,” he replied, wrapping his arms around her. “Truly, Cat, you looked indescribably beautiful holding our little daughter like that. I don’t blame her in the least for not wanting to leave your arms.”

She laughed. “I suppose it must be rather nice to simply lie back and be held and rocked.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Then allow me, my lady.”

With that, he shifted back slightly, and then pulled her back so that she lay cradled on his arm with her head against the bare skin of his chest.

“Is that as nice as you thought it might be, my lady?” he asked her.

“Mmm,” she said. “Better.” She smiled up at him and he bent his lips to hers, kissing her softly.

As their lips met, she felt the longing of nearly a month well up inside her. and she returned his kiss hungrily, opening her mouth to allow his tongue to slide against hers. He held her in that position for some time, kissing her until they were both nearly breathless, until they both needed much more of their bodies to be touching each other. Then she pulled herself upright and allowed her dress to fall completely away from her. He rose up on his knees and began to push her shift up and over her head. As soon as her arms were free, she was tugging at his smallclothes, exquisitely aware of the stiffness of his cock within them. Throughout their frenzied undressing, they continued kissing, their mouths finding every bit of each other’s flesh within easy reach.

When they were both naked, kneeling on the bed facing each other, hands refamiliarizing themselves with each other’s bodies, he suddenly stopped and pulled back, looking intently at her. “Are you certain, Cat? I know you are exhausted.” He could barely catch his breath to form the words, and she knew he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him, but as always, he was careful of her.

Breathing too hard to form her own words, she answered him by throwing her arms around his neck and falling back onto the bed, pulling him to her.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

That smile as he’d cradled her against him. That smile which had told him so certainly there was nowhere else she wanted to be in that moment. He couldn’t imagine any greater joy than just the privilege of seeing that particular smile on that beautiful face and knowing it was for him. He couldn’t have prevented himself from kissing her then had his very life depended upon it.

He’d tried to slow himself afterward, told himself he honestly wanted her just to sleep if that is what she needed. Yet, when she grabbed him and pulled him to her, his heart leapt and he nearly cried out for the joy of simply feeling her beneath him once more.

He moved down over her, taking each of her nipples into his mouth in turn and not knowing whether it was the taste and feel of her skin or the sounds she made as he sucked and nibbled at her that caused his pulse to quicken more. He would have moved further down, delaying his own satisfaction, kissing and teasing all of her most sensitive flesh, but she grabbed at him. He raised his eyes to hers.

“Ned,” she gasped. “Don’t wait. Please.” Her blue eyes were wide and her breaths came short and fast. He reached out and touched her cheek. “Please,” she repeated.

She didn’t have to ask again. He positioned himself above her and buried himself inside her with one motion, and they cried out together. “Cat,” he said hoarsely, and she reached to pull him even closer, her long fingers grabbing at his shoulders, his back, his hips as he began to move inside her. She met his every thrust, and just as he felt he could not hold back for one more minute, he felt her tense around him and heard her cry out his name as she found her release. He never loved the sound of his own name as much as he did on her lips when she came undone for him, and he allowed himself to follow her, his entire body pulsing and shaking as he spilled himself within her.

Afterwards they lay close together, arms and legs still tangled although he had rolled slightly to spare her the bulk of his weight. As their hearts slowed and their breathing returned to normal, he became aware that there were tears on her cheeks. “Cat?” he asked, alarmed. “Are you well, my love?”

“I am more than well now, Ned,” she whispered. “It’s just . . .I was so frightened. The girls were so sick. Arya . . .” Her voice broke. “Arya wouldn’t take the teat at all for nearly three days. She was so weak and limp. And Sansa was burning for days . . .and I . . .”

“Hush now,” he said, pulling her more tightly to him and rolling to his back so that he could rest her head on his chest. “You’ve been so brave. You’ve done everything for them, Cat. And they are better now. They will both be fully recovered in no time. Maester Luwin is certain of it.”

She nodded against his chest. “I am so very glad you are home, my love.”

“So am I,” he said softly, stroking her hair and back as she lay there, ignoring the heat in the room now magnified by his wife’s warm body against him. His aversion to being overly warm was nothing compared to the bliss of holding her tightly to him once more. “Cat?” he said after a moment.

She didn’t reply, and he realized that exhaustion had finally taken its toll. Safe in his arms, she had fallen fast asleep.

He smiled to himself. The girls would be fine. His boys were fine. His beautiful and capable wife who’d handled all crises great and small in his absence was asleep in his arms. He kissed the top of her head and resolved not to let her go all night that she might sleep soundly. It would seem she did have some need of him after all. Ned Stark was a happy man.


End file.
